The Author's Notes: Well, the next update will hopefully be a little quicker. This week I had midterms and an essay to write which is why this wasn't out faster. I also quit my old job and took a new one so that's been causing a bit of a time crunch as well.

Okay. This section moves the search forward a bit. Wedge's part is a little lame, but I love him so much I had to put him in there. I don't think I'm going to really go into detail with the hearings for Han and Wedge since I certainly don't know much about any court or judicial systems. I tend to obey the law myself. But you will know the outcomes.

Alrighty, that's about it on this front…

Disclaimer: Star Wars is copywrite its respective owners and creators (in this case in particular, Timothy Zahn and George Lucas). I have no intent of making money off of this piece (it wouldn't sell in the first place), nor do I seek to deliberately infringe on copywrite laws. This is just some fun I cooked up in my somewhat twisted little mind.

[thank you to the reviewers:] Deja Know I Been Lookin For Vu, ariapaige, Jedi-2B, and Urazz, you guys/girls continue to rock! I really love it when you guys put in specific parts/lines that you liked. Then I try to do more stuff like it.

Deja: The meditation plays a bigger role later, so I'll just keep ya in suspense . . . lol. I know Luke dying is not a happy thought, but . . . he wasn't in a very good mood. He'll get funny again quickly. I'll also try to keep updating fast when I've got the time!

Paige: I'm sorry break is over too! Thank you! You're right about the Mon/Leia scene. I swear, I'm the queen of typos! I'm glad you liked the blanket stuff. It was one of my favorite bits, too.

Jedi-2B: I'm glad you liked that chapter. Personally, I thought it was a little slow, but I wanted to get a lot of framework down for Luke and Mara before I even try to build on their could-be romance. You picked right up on the Emperor deal—I think she'd be absolutely terrified of the monster Luke could become simply because he's got access to that kind of power. I really liked what you said about not liking the glove, so there's a bit in this chapter just for you. Hope you like it!

Urazz: I'm glad you like it! Hopefully it'll continue to improve as I keep going.

Eye of the Beholder

Chapter 06

Aves paced back and forth as Mara checked their gear. He looked agitated, more agitated than she'd ever seen him—but then Karrde wasn't the type to simply disappear with nary a word to his employees. She was agitated too, more than she cared to admit, but she was far more adept at masking that distracting emotion. Usually. Luke stood quietly near the back of the room, quiet and almost shrouded in the shadows. After his soul-bearing the day before, Mara was almost relieved that he was keeping somewhat to himself. There was a whole new air between them—as if she was both more comfortable and uncomfortable with him than ever before. It was a confusing and unwanted feeling, and she decided that the sooner they'd sprung Karrde from whatever trouble he'd managed to land himself in, the better.

"All there?" he asked quietly, bringing his attention to her.

"All there," she agreed shortly, hoping to discourage him from further conversation. As if he caught that intent—and maybe he had--he jerked his eyes away and pressed his lips into a thin, tight line.

Aves ran a hand through his already-disheveled hair and cast Mara a look. "He might swing by Mrykr—just to see."

Of course. Karrde's base of operations had been on Myrkr. It was the closest thing to a home he'd ever had before Thrawn destroyed it. He'd always been a bit nostalgic about it. But then . . . Luke's eyes flashed back to hers, and she shared his thought.

Karrde wouldn't go back. Losing it in the first place had been too painful.

And Luke understood that. It's what kept him from going back to Tatooine, what made him so hesitant to return to Dagobah. He knew exactly how Karrde felt. His lips tightened further and he turned away again.

Unexpectedly, Mara felt bad for him. He seemed to do that to her, always making her feel things she hadn't since she'd been a small child. But seeing him there, obviously torn up about something, her stomach twisted in pity. She quashed the urge to say something quickly and put her full attention in the task ahead.

"You said something about Tatooine."

Aves shrugged. "Karrde had asked us to send someone out there. He didn't mention why, but Tatooine's always been a stop for smugglers. I figured he'd just heard something about a new smuggling ring or something."

Something reacted in Luke before he could shield it properly, something that Mara felt quite clearly. She turned her gaze to him again, but he was still tight-lipped. Some of the color had drained from his face, and his eyes studiously avoided hers.

"I guess that's as good a place to start as any. He might have checked it out himself since he was heading to the Rim."

"Worth a shot," Aves agreed. "I suppose I'm still in charge of this rabble, then."

She smiled at him. "For a while, anyway."

"Believe me," he muttered with a glance around, "I'll be glad to give it back. You'd better get going."

She nodded, her smile fading. "You're right. You know how to get into contact with me of you need to?"

He gave her a withering look. "Of course."

Another brief smile touched her lips. "Of course," she repeated, and tossed Luke his share of the gear. "Let's go."

His eyes flashed as they met hers, then he glanced over her shoulder and nodded to Aves. After the silent goodbye, he and Mara were walking out of the door. Moments later they were back in their ship. Then the silence descended.

His eyes were electric, and locked onto her face. Mara tried to ignore that as she carefully maneuvered the Blaze away from the Wild Karrde. She kept her gaze away from his for several long moments.

"Are you going to sit there and gawk all day, Skywalker?" she snapped finally, unable to bear that all-seeing gaze any longer.

She was surprised when, at her harsh question, he immediately pulled his gaze away. "Sorry."

The silence stretched out again after his apology, their discomfort with each other growing. She focused on plotting a discreet course to Tatooine, trying with everything in her power to ignore him.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked suddenly.

"Talk about what, Skywalker?" It wasn't really a question, at least not one she wanted an answer to.

"You know what," he said sharply, reaching the limits of his own temper.

"No," she told him, "I don't."

"Well we certainly can't spend the next few days like this."

"I know that. Do you think I'm enjoying this?" she demanded, whirling to face him. He had already turned her way, his eyes narrowed. Electricity crackled between them.

"Probably as much as I am," he snapped.

"Less," she assured him coldly.

She watched the anger drain from him as he regained control. The electricity faded between them, and his gaze dropped to his hands.

"I pushed you too hard," he muttered. "Sorry. I was just trying to . . . I don't know what I was trying to do. I want to—"

He cut himself off, feeling himself flush. I want to be your friend. He sighed.

She watched him, lingering somewhere between anger and sudden, inexplicable sadness. Her eyes dropped to his glove covered hand, and realized that it bothered her that he covered it.

Mara didn't put up with things that bothered her. She got rid of them. So she grabbed the leather and yanked, ripping it clean off. His gaze leapt to hers, his hand recoiled from her fingers automatically.

"Hiding the things that bother you isn't any way to solve your problems," she muttered quietly, though he had a suspicion she was talking to herself more than to him. She moved toward the door swiftly. As she left, she threw the glove down. He stared at it on the floor, then moved to pick it up. He bent over, his fingers brushed the leather, but he didn't grasp it.

All of a sudden, there wasn't much he did grasp.

He straightened, lifted his chin, and walked down the hall to his own quarters. The glove remained on the floor.

-*-A few days later-*-

He wasn't ready to come back—he hadn't thought he'd ever come back. Even when he'd returned to save Han, he'd only gone to Jabba's Palace, and even then it was only out of dire necessity. He never would have returned if Han had been safe. And as the planet loomed closer and closer, Luke felt the memories return with surprising clarity. He tried to control the emotion and keep it from rippling out in the Force, but he lacked the concentration. Mara shot him a sideways glance.

"This place really gets to you, doesn't it?" she asked. It wasn't meant to be sympathetic or cruel, it was just a question. And yet it helped to focus on her, and he though for a moment that she might not be as tough as she would have everyone believe.

"Just . . . My memories of this place are strong. I thought it was the end of my family. This is where my life really started. When I met Ben . . . "

"There was no going back," she finished. She'd felt that way about the Emperor, and later Luke.

"Right." He paused. "Anyway, it doesn't really matter—I have to move forward with my life."

She glanced at him again, felt him reign in his emotions. "Don't let it interfere with our search," she said quietly. He looked like a stranger to her. His hair had been shortened and darkened, and his eyes, once a sharp, clear blue, were now a much duller chocolate brown. His skin had been artificially darkened as well, nearly as tanned as it had been when he'd lived on the arid desert planet looming in front of them. And, she noted, his right hand was uncovered. She hadn't seen the black glove since their fight.

Those brown eyes nailed her with a look that clearly stated his thoughts on that subject. "I won't let it cloud my judgment if that's what you mean," he said quietly. He was feeling unreasonably agitated, and ran through a Jedi calming technique. By the time he'd finished it, Mara had gracefully set the ship down on a landing pad in Mos Eisley. They'd agreed to start there, since all the gossip on the planet circulated through its cantinas.

"Miserable place," she commented as they descended the ramp side by side.

He snorted, his eyes moving over the cityscape. Not much had changed since he'd escaped with Ben, Chewie, the droids and Han. It felt like forever ago . . .

"I spent most of my life struggling to get away. Uncle Owen never saw it that way though." He shrugged. "They're alike, Tatooine and Owen. Come to think of it—" he smiled—"they even kind of looked alike back then."

Mara gave a small, crooked grin. "Just don't tell your wife that, or she might refuse to have kids with you."

"Gotta find a wife first," he replied, chuckling. "Besides, I'd be willing to bet I took after my mother's side of the family."

They trailed through the streets, appropriately wary. They gave most of the other more colorful inhabitants of the city wide birth, and Luke kept a hand on the blaster at his hip. It was loosely holstered, and the gun belt hung low across his hips for easy access. He was still a crack shot, though he preferred his light saber. That, however, had been tucked into a compartment in Artoo, who trailed at their heals, warbling to himself. Mara's was in there as well, but she had a nasty-looking blaster rifle slung across her back.

"Where should we start?" she asked. He gestured to one of the more popular cantinas.

"Hopefully, all we'll have to do is linger around the bar and listen . . . Perhaps ask a few questions."

She eyed him, amusement apparent on her face. "That almost sounds too easy."

"Well . . ." Luke grinned at her. "I didn't say how long we might have to linger around the bar."

-*-

"Does anyone even know where Fey'lya is?" Wedge asked. He and the rest of the Rogue Squadron found themselves in a small Palace topcaf, clustered around a large, round table near the back.

Hobbie shook his head. "Nope. Well, none of us, anyway. But Mon Mothma knows where he is, and he's been contacting other big-wigs regularly."

"But no one really knows?"

The pilots shrugged.

"Someone's got to—he's on planet." Wedge sighed in frustration. "I almost hope Luke gets into some kind of trouble, just so we have leave to get out of here. Then again," he muttered to himself with a smile, "it is Luke—there's a good chance we'll be out of here by the end of the week."

The others laughed. Luke was infamous for getting himself into trouble—and more than adept at getting out of it, especially if he had some help.

Wedge lingered with his Squadron for a while, then made excuses and headed to the hanger. That was where he went to tinker with his X-wing and get away from it all. It was usually fairly devoid of life, with the exception of a few other mechanics and security personnel. Wedge made his way toward the back of the massive hanger, where his ship was being held for the duration of his pre-trial proceedings. He rubbed his hand along the side of it and sighed.

He got to work immediately, without any real purpose. He did basic maintenance, cleaned, tinkered, but mostly he thought. Wedge did his best thinking while working with his hands. There, sweating and covered in grease, Wedge considered the battle for the Katana fleet.

It had been both a victory and defeat—but the New Republic lost more than they won that day. Mara had almost died, lost in space, and had been saved by Luke—the only one who could have possibly located her in the wreckage. Wedge himself had been wiping out TIE fighters and doing his best to bring down a Star Destroyer. Luke, Han, and Lando had been on the fleet's flagship, fighting off storm troopers. But they had ignored orders from Fey'lya to cease and desist.

At the time, when Fey'lya's true intentions were brought to light, no one ever thought that fighting off the Imperials would return to haunt them. But the fact was that they all had ignored an order from a superior officer.

The aftermath of that battle led to the launch of several key events, and soon everyone was too focused on Thrawn, C'boath, the clones and the storehouse on Wayland to care about the confused events of the battle over Katana.

Now, however—now that was all that was on everyone's minds. It was all over Coruscant. People were torn. Did they prosecute the heroes of the New Republic? After all, the names that were splashed all over the holonews were extremely well-known. These men had been celebrated, admired and hailed for years.

Wedge leaned back for a moment, dragging a forearm across his brow. He was to consult the Senate the next day to dispute the claims being brought up against him. Han would have to do the same. Luke, away on a mission, had temporarily been spared that fate. He'd been allowed to go on faith alone—it was absurd to think that Luke Skywalker, who'd faced down the Emperor, Darth Vader, and more recently Joruus C'boath was a flight risk.

The veteran pilot let out a long breath and leaned back into the engine. He stayed there for hours, glad for the solitude.

-*-

Han was pacing back and forth, eyes narrowed. He had a dangerous look in his eyes, one that made Leia wary. After a few long moments, he plopped down in his favorite chair and held his arms out for Jaina. His wife knew what troubled him—it wasn't hard to guess—but she was unsure of how to council him.

"Fey'lya's a sneaky, underhanded—"

Leia shook her head. "Be that as it may, your temper is not going to win over the Senate. But the people are on your side, and you acted in the best interest of the New Republic."

"Too little," Han commented bitterly, "too late."

"No one's saying that, Han," she told him reasonably. "I'm sure you'll be let off with no charges."

He shook his head. "And what are we going to do about the Luke situation?"

"We can support him. He's aware of Fey'lya's plan. But finding Karrde is more important right now. All we have to do is make sure that people are reminded of the many sacrifices Luke has made for the good of this government."

Han didn't look happy about it, and Leia really couldn't blame him. She knew that until her husband could get out there and do something, he wouldn't feel he was helping his brother-in-law at all.

"Did the kid say where they were headed first?" he asked, changing the subject.

"He said they were starting at Tatooine. He had mixed emotions about it."

"I bet." Han snorted. "He wasn't exactly thrilled the last time he had to go out there."

"I know. But Mara won't mess around. If she wants to start on Tatooine, that's where they'll start," Leia replied.

"She's good for him, that one."

"Who, Mara?" Leia shook her head. "I don't know. I don't trust her."

"You didn't trek through the forests of Wayland with her," her husband retorted. "She changed on that trip. And she's a damn useful ally. She and Luke make quite a team. And she doesn't put up with his new Jedi moods."

"Jedi moods?"

"You know how he's been lately. Too serious. He doesn't laugh enough. And ever since the twins were born—"

Leia nodded, feeling instinctively guilty. "You're right, he feels separated from us now."

"She makes him laugh," Han pointed out decisively, "and anyone that makes Luke laugh is okay in my book."

Leia smiled. "You old softy."

"Don't let that get out, you'll ruin my reputation," he replied, and kissed her.